


The Things They Carried

by Error401



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst, Drama, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I think I may have overdone the angst a bit, Kink Meme, M/M, Mild Language, Past Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-28
Updated: 2013-03-23
Packaged: 2017-12-03 22:41:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 4,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/703436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Error401/pseuds/Error401
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fill for TWD Kink meme prompt:<br/>One of the reasons Daryl and Glenn bonded so well was that they had a mutual history of abuse. Merle finds out about Glenn's past (maybe he overhears them talking about it, whatever anon wants) and starts feeling protective towards him, like he is towards Daryl.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Each "Chapter" will probably be very short, probably drabble-ish length, as I fill it in tiny sections.

In the prison, it was quiet. 

Daryl hated that. He could hear himself think, and thinking never led anywhere good, especially when he was alone in the dark. Things that he never wanted to revisit always managed to scratch and claw their way to the surface.

"Hey," Glenn said quietly, leaning against the entrance, head resting limply against the concrete of the wall.

"Mmm," Daryl nodded, keeping his hands busy as he methodically cleaned his blades, honed their edges, reassembled and oiled his guns, unstrung his crossbow. Anything to think of nothing.

Glenn opened his mouth, wanting to say...something. Anything to make it okay. But it wasn't okay. Daryl had chosen Merle over him. He wasn't sure what to do with that, how to face it. "Your...brother's getting restless," he said, trying for Daryl's sake to get over the slamming of fists, the bruises, the pain.

"We've never liked bein' caged," Daryl said quietly, pushing some hair out of his eyes. 

"Do you know what he...what he did to me?" Glenn asked. 

"Got some idea," Daryl said, setting the hunting knife he was polishing aside to look up. 

Glenn swallowed. Looked down. 

Daryl sighed. "He's my brother," he shrugged. "He's all I got left."

"Last time I checked, you still had those scars," Glenn said bitterly. 

Daryl growled. "Merle didn't do them, you know that."

"Might as well have," Glenn said, fingers curling into fists. "People like him--they hurt everyone around them, Daryl. They're toxic. He tried to..." he cut off, wrapping an arm around his middle, trying to hold himself in check. "Maggie was almost...and I..." He slammed his other hand into the wall. His knuckles were already bruised and scabbed, what difference did a few more make?

"Kid..." Daryl said, standing from his bed. "I don't know what you want me to say."

"I told you all of it, Daryl," Glenn whispered, closing his eyes. "I told you what I've never told anyone else in my entire life, and all you can give me is 'Oh, sorry, Glenn. He's my brother.'"

Daryl frowned, eyes narrowing. 

"He may be your family," Glenn said, "But he'll never be mine."

"I understand," Daryl said, "but--"

"I'm done," Glenn cut him off. "We're...done."

Daryl clenched his teeth, felt his muscles tensing. "You don't understand."

Glenn smiled sadly. "The thing is, I do."


	2. Chapter 2

Daryl slumped down onto the mattress after Glenn's dramatic exit, rubbing his face in both of his hands. It's not that he didn't care, he just didn't know what to do. He couldn't abandon his brother, even if his heart was killing him over Glenn.

Of course he could never forget what Glenn had told him. Their childhoods were very similar, after all, only Daryl bore the more physical scars and Glenn bore the mental ones. 

Daryl's father used to beat him until he couldn't move, leaving him lying there in a pool of his own blood. It used to be Merle who would take care of him, Merle who would bandage him, Merle who would bring him medicine and food. Until Merle left. And then Daryl had to harden himself in order to be able to deal with it on his own, until he couldn't anymore.

Daryl sighed, rubbing at his stinging eyes.

He was still angry every time he thought of what Glenn's father had done to him. He had no idea how anyone could look at Glenn's face and even think of hurting a single part of him. He was angry that Carol had to go through something like that, had to deal with that son of a bitch husband who he hoped was rotting in hell. 

Generally, he was just angry all the time. 

Lurching up from his bed, he sheathed a knife at his hip and made his way out of his cell, glancing down at everyone below. Beth and the baby, Carl, Carol, Hershel, Maggie, the new woman. No Rick. No Glenn. No Merle.

He slipped silently down the stairs, making sure not to draw any attention to himself, and slipped outside, squinting as the sun struck his eyes. He quickly recovered himself when he heard the quiet murmuring from around the corner, two bodies leaning against the fence and partially obscured by wooden slats. 

"I know what happened to you was somethin' awful," he heard Rick say, "but you know why we need Merle around. I appreciate the effort you been makin', it means more than I can say."

"I know," Glenn said. "Because we need Daryl."

"We need all the help we can get," Rick sighed, patting Glenn on the shoulder before turning around and spotting Daryl, quirking an eyebrow. He nodded to Daryl, turned to look at Glenn one last time, and went inside where Daryl had exited. 

"You can't just say stuff," Daryl said, taking Rick's place against the fence. "You can't just say stuff and leave, like that's the end of it."

"Apparently not," Glenn said wryly, steadfastly refusing to look Daryl in the eye. "There's nowhere to run, is there?"

"Merle may be a jackass, but he ain't like your dad," Daryl said, wrapping his fingers around a few metal links, hot from the warmth of the sun. 

"I don't know, they don't seem that different to me," Glenn shrugged, mouth drawn into a thin line. "What with the whole beating the crap out of me and leaving me locked up alone in the dark." He stepped away from the fence and turned around, crossing his arms over his chest. "Except for Merle, it's not because I didn't do well on a history test or because I brought shame onto my family. He just doesn't like me."

"He ain't gonna touch you again," Daryl said. 

"Who? My dad? Or your brother? 'Cause every time I even close my fucking eyes, I feel them touching me! And you can't fix that, Daryl! I can't--" he cut himself off, pulling at a handful of his hair. "Shit, I just...I can't deal with this right now. Not with the Governor about to attack us, Maggie being such a wreck, trying to plan for everything we need. I can't do this," his voice broke.

"You don't have to do it alone," Daryl said, reaching out a tentative hand.

Glenn shrugged it away, face full of contempt. "Yeah, actually, I do."

"Kid--"

"Look," Glenn growled. "Our dads both...did things that we have to remember for the rest of our short, miserable lives. We don't have to pretend like that gives us a bond or something. So we fucked a few times. So what? Nothing means anything anymore."

"You know that ain't true," Daryl mumbled.

"I..." Glenn started, regret blossoming in his chest. He didn't want to hurt anyone, especially Daryl. But. "I gotta go. Don't follow me this time."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I'm really surprised that this is getting so much love. I thought for sure that it would be condemned as being too tropey, or something. Thank you guys for all your support!

Daryl was prepared for the noises. 

It wasn't unusual to hear Glenn murmuring in his sleep or twisting himself so much that he ended up falling off the bed. He and Glenn both had problems with nightmares, and now more than ever they had plenty of fuel for their dreams. Glenn often spoke in his sleep, and it was clear that it meant something in context, but Daryl could never understand what he was saying. Just that it was bad.

This time, though, was different, because in the middle of the night came a scream from Glenn's cell that caused him to sit up straight in bed and immediately reach for his bow. He could hear everyone else moving, too. Waking up and scrambling for clothes, asking what was going on. The scream had been terrifying, like one of them was being eaten by a walker in the middle of their camp.

Daryl threw the blankets off of himself and rushed to Glenn's cell, bow still in hand, cement cold on his bare feet. 

Rick was already there. And Maggie. His brother stood outside, leaning against the wall, eyes clouded by sleep and irritation. "The fuck's wrong with him?" Merle grumbled to Daryl, scratching at his head, shooting fiery glances inside. 

"Go back to bed, Merle," Daryl answered, dragging a hand across his mouth and rubbing grit from the corners of his eyes. Merle just gave him a look and shook his head, fingering his stump with his good hand. 

Daryl stood quietly at the door and looked inside. 

Maggie had Glenn pulled against her, rubbing his hair soothingly as he pressed his face against her chest. "It's okay," she said, looking up at Rick. "It's okay, Glenn. You're okay."

Daryl felt his fingers tighten around his bow as he saw the state Glenn was in. He wasn't crying, he never cried for himself, but his eyes were haunted and shadowed by deep purple circles that looked more like bruises than the remnants of Merle's beating. He was sweaty and pale, clinging to Maggie like she was the only thing keeping him grounded. Daryl remembered when it was him that kept Glenn grounded.

"I'm sorry," Glenn whimpered. "I"m sorry. I'm sorry."

"Nobody's mad at you," Rick said carefully, keeping his distance. 

"I am!" Merle called from outside. "Fuckin' Chinese--"

"Merle!" Daryl said sharply, and Glenn winced at his raised voice, for which Daryl immediately felt guilty.

Slowly, Glenn detached himself from Maggie and rubbed at his eyes, hunching over like he was trying to be as small as possible. "I...I'm okay, guys. I'm sorry for..." he breathed, seeming to have trouble forming coherent sentences. "It won't happen again."

"Glenn, we need to talk about this," Rick said, but even he sounded unsure as to what he was supposed to do. 

"We don't," Glenn said stubbornly, wrapping his arms around his middle. 

"I got this," Daryl said, stepping further into the cell and in front of Rick, ignoring Maggie's threatening look. 

"I'm not a 'this,' Daryl, and I don't need you," Glenn said. 

"You gonna' tell them, then?" Daryl asked, nodding to Rick and Maggie. 

Glenn set his mouth in a stubborn line. Said nothing. 

"You want me to stay with you?" Maggie asked quietly, putting a hand on Glenn's back. 

Glenn couldn't help but jerk away from the contact. Maggie immediately frowned, clearly hurt but trying not to let it show. 

"C'mon, Maggs," Rick said, sensing that there was more between Daryl and Glenn that needed to be said. "We should at least get a few more hours rest. It's gonna' be a long day tomorrow."

"If you need me..." Maggie said, letting her words hang in the air. 

She brushed past Daryl and stood next to Rick, glancing back at Glenn before they filed out. 

Daryl took her place on Glenn's bed, keeping his hands to himself. "The same one?" he asked.

"No," Glenn said darkly. "This time your brother was there too."


	4. Chapter 4

"I'd done something wrong again," Glenn began haltingly. "I don't even...I don't remember what it was. Probably something stupid." He ran a hand through his sweat-dampened hair. "And I was in my room, and the door was locked, so I thought...I thought I was safe, but..."

"You're never safe," Daryl said quietly. He understood all too well.

"And he just...he started yelling. It always starts that way, that's not the scary part. It's when he gets quiet...that's when..."

"He's not here anymore," Daryl said. "In yer head, but not...not here." He laid his bow on his lap, resting his hands across the length of it. 

"I fuckin' know that," Glenn growled, standing from the bed and pacing the length of the room like a caged animal. "But that doesn't help me. I can't...I can't control the memories when I sleep, and your fucking brother had to...And now it's all I can think about..." Glenn finished exhaustedly. 

"What Merle...what he did...It reminded you 'a something? Your father did somethin' like that?" 

Glenn laughed mirthlessly. "Well, he never tried to feed me to a walker, if that's what you're asking."

"You know it ain't," Daryl frowned. He shifted in discomfort. He wished, somehow, that he could go back in time and erase what had happened. He'd had that wish more than once. But wishing never got anyone anything. 

"He put me in the chair in the basement and left me there for three days," Glenn said. "He only hit me a few times, when I tried to run away when he was dragging me down there, but..." he shuddered, hunching in on himself. "I was scared, and hungry, and I couldn't move. I couldn't see. He left it dark. I remember thinking, he's really going to kill me this time. He's going to leave me down here until I die, and no one's going to know what happened to me. I'm going to die."

Daryl didn't say anything. He knew that there was nothing he could say that would make this okay.

"And Merle...and being here..." Glenn breathed, rubbing his hands up and down his arms. "He tied me to a chair, ya' know? And then, funnily enough, when I was sitting there, I was less afraid of dying than I was when my dad did the same thing. When I was fifteen and there were no walkers and all I had to be worried about were bad grades and late curfews. Isn't that messed up?"

"Nah," Daryl said, shaking his head. "No more'n what happens to me every time I see a belt buckle. Walkers ain't got nothing on belt buckles."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any more, and I probably would have ruined it.


	5. Chapter 5

"Here," Merle said, offering the hilt of the small sheathed blade to Glenn, who looked at it like it was going to attack him at any moment. 

"What do you want?" he asked suspiciously, swallowing hard. He looked around. They were alone in one of the many hallways of the cell block, where Glenn had gone to get away from everyone for a moment. "People know I'm here."

"The one you got ain't good for shit," Merle grunted, tossing it at Glenn's feet. Without another word, he turned and left.

Glenn looked at the knife before picking it up slowly, drawing it from the leather. It was shiny, like it had been polished recently, and sharpened to a severe angle on both sides of the blade. There didn't seem to be anything wrong with it. He frowned, confused, but tucked the knife into the back of his jeans. 

"Glenn?" Maggie called, rounding the corner and turning her head both ways to look around. "There you are! Rick was asking everyone to gather. He, Michonne, and Carl are about to leave on their run."

"Okay," Glenn nodded. Hesitated. "Hey, Maggie...I'm sorry...about the other night."

"You don't need to be," Maggie said quietly. "Everyone has their demons. Yours are just a little more talkative than most."

Glenn snorted, "That's a way of putting it."

"C'mon," Maggie smiled, looping her arm through his. "Let's go meet the others."

Everyone was gathered in a little circle on the main cell block floor, looking a little forlorn at the impending seperation of the group. "We'll be back in no later than a day," Rick said, always ready to take charge. "If you have somethin' you absolutely need, write it down and get it to me or Michonne in the next five minutes. Otherwise, you'll have to do without."

Glenn stood back with Carol as Beth moved to whisper in Carl's ear, Maggie and Hershel approached Rick, and Daryl seemed to have an intense conversation with Michonne, with a lot of gesturing on his part. Glenn wondered what they were talking about, but forced his attention to move somewhere else. As he was watching the others, he felt the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. He snapped his head up to catch Merle glaring at him from across the room, where he was leaning against the wall. 

Glenn felt his eyebrows furrow, and he quickly looked away. He shivered. He had no idea what the man's problem was, but he couldn't deal with it. He couldn't look at Merle without feeling the cold steel pressing against his upper lip, fists pounding away at his exposed flesh, seeing Maggie...He shook his head, snapping himself out of it. Dangerous thoughts.

"Hey," Carol said, resting a small hand against his arm. Hers were the only hands that Glenn wasn't afraid of. They reminded him of his mother's, tiny yet strong. "Don't give him the satisfaction," she said quietly, squeezing gently. He smiled down at her and nodded.

Glenn looked up this time to find Daryl watching him, and he tried not to tense up, but failed. Daryl knew way too much about his past. For whatever reason, he just couldn't shut up when Daryl asked him about anything. It was almost terrifying, the power Daryl held over him. As if sensing his turmoil, Daryl said his piece to Michonne and began walking to where he and Carol were standing. 

"My bow's about had it," Daryl said, scratching his scalp. "Beginnin' to fracture with the recoil. Asked the new woman to spy me out another one."

"You gotta' be more careful with your ladies," Carol grinned. "Can't be so hard on 'em."

"You little-" Daryl rolled his eyes, reaching out to ruffle her short hair. "You know I treat my ladies just fine."

Glenn coughed, trying to hold back a laugh. 

"The hell's your problem?" Daryl asked indignantly.

"You ever _had_  a lady, Daryl?" Glenn asked, smiling slyly. 

If Glenn didn't know better, he would say that Daryl turned at least a shade redder. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I...I'm aware that my Glenn is kinda'...but he's, you know, traumatized and stuff. Things.

It felt like electricity shooting up his spine, the pressure of Daryl's warm hand against his lower back. It'd been so long since he'd last turned to Daryl for comfort, so long since he'd felt anything other than paranoid and strung tight. But then, he supposed that held true for most of the group. 

"This ain't yours," Daryl said, and only then did Glenn remember the knife he'd stuck in his waistband. 

"No," Glenn agreed, stepping away from him quickly. He couldn't take proximity without contact. He was weak. He wanted it.

"It's Merle's," Daryl said, narrowing his eyes. 

"So, what, you think I stole it?" Glenn asked, pulling the offending object out and tossing at Daryl's feet. "Fine, take it back. I didn't want it in the first place."

"That ain't what I said," Daryl muttered, not moving to pick it up. 

"It's what you meant, though," Glenn said. 

"I just can't figure why you'd have it, is all," Daryl said calmly. 

Glenn frowned, biting at his bottom lip. "You'd have to ask your brother about that, because I don't understand it either. One minute he's threatening to kill me, and the next he's throwing knives at me. I don't have time for whatever mind games he's playing at."

Daryl leaned over and picked the knife up, drawing the blade and admiring it before sheathing it again. "This is Marge, she's one a' his favorites."

Glenn sighed, rubbing a hand through his hair. "Look, just give it back to him, okay?" He shouldn't have been surprised that Merle named his knives. He wondered what the one attached to his stump had been called. 

"He gave it to you for a reason," Daryl insisted, offering the hilt to Glenn.

Glenn didn't take it. "Yeah, to screw with my head," he said, voice full of irritation. 

Daryl gave him a considering look, then looked at the knife before offering it again. "Don't hurt to have a good blade." He held it out.

Glenn sighed, but took it, seeing the logic in Daryl's words. It wasn't really a time when any of them could afford to turn down arms. "I'm sorry, I..."

"Got no reason to be sorry," Daryl shrugged. He smirked, "Besides, I did think you stole it. I should be the one sayin' that. Thought you were gonna' try and have it out with my brother, once and for all."

"I can't say I haven't thought about it," Glenn admitted. "The things he did to me, what they did to Maggie...But...I'm not stupid enough to think we can afford to lose fighters. The governor's coming. We have to be ready."

"I don't wanna' have to choose," Daryl said quietly. "I tried it before, and I couldn't..."

"You came back," Glenn said, realization hitting him like it hadn't before. There hadn't been time. The prison was under attack and things had been going too fast. "You...picked us."

"I picked you," Daryl corrected, scratching at his chest. "I picked you  _and_ him."

"I don't...I don't want to make you..." Glenn said haltingly, "but I..."

Daryl nodded awkwardly in understanding. "I don't know what's rollin' around in that big head a' his, but it's best it's sorted before things get..."

"I'll talk to him," Glenn said nervously, "but only if you're there. I can't...I...he reminds me too much of..."

Daryl took a step closer and slowly lifted a hand, resting it on Glenn's shoulder like he thought he would break. Maybe he would.

Glenn felt his heart clench at the gesture. Daryl hated touching people unless it was absolutely necessary. "I ain't leaving you alone again. None a' you, you got me?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wanted someone to leave a comment on one of my fics a la "It's too damn gorgeous," but I can wait no longer and must shamelessly repeat the most epic of lines. Thanks for Kudos-ing and <3-ing!


	7. Chapter 7

"The hell you want?" Merle said, not even looking up from where he sat sharpening yet another one of his countless blades. 

"We need to have some words," Daryl said, glancing behind him to where Glenn stood, squeezing and twisting the hem of his shirt. "Get some things squared."

"I..." Glenn said, looking up at Merle and then back down to his feet. "I wanted to give you your knife back."

"I gave it to you," Merle said, continuing to work. 

"Why?" Glenn asked, taking a step forward and standing next to Daryl. "I don't understand. You hate me."

Merle paused, setting the knife and the whetstone down on the mattress next to him. "Peace offering. And like I said, the one you got is shit. Now fuck off."

Daryl snorted, crossing his arms over his chest. "Since when do you care about peace?"

"Since I gotta worry about one a' these idiots shooting me in the back," Merle growled, irritated, picking up the knife again. "Best we all just...got along."

"You really think it's that easy?" Glenn said darkly. "That I can just get over it, just like that? Just because you, what, decided to share your favorite toy?"

"You best be gettin' over it, boy. I ain't goin' anywhere," Merle said, standing. Daryl pushed Glenn back with a hand on his chest, and Merle frowned. "I ain't gonna touch your girlfriend," he spat. 

"Don't call him that," Daryl muttered, removing his hand, pretending not to see the hurt flash in Glenn's eyes. 

"Or what, Darleena?" Merle taunted. 

"Stop it," Glenn said. Daryl's wince was barely perceptible, but it was there. "You know what your dad used to say to Daryl because he thought he wasn't tough enough, wasn't man enough? Do you even remember where you first heard that name, Merle?"

"Kid," Daryl said sharply.

Merle frowned, something in his eyes that Glenn couldn't read, because he'd never seen it before. "Get out."

Glenn followed Daryl back to his cell, nervousness compounding in his chest with every step they took. He knew he'd overstepped his boundaries, knew he should never have brought up Daryl's father. It was like a punch in the gut every time someone brought up his, and he knew it probably hurt worse for the sensitive older man. 

Daryl sat down on his bunk and Glenn leant against the wall, head hanging. "Daryl, I'm sorry. I didn't mean--"

"I know, kid," Daryl said, one hand reaching over the opposite shoulder and rubbing at his back. 

"I just...he makes me so..." Glenn hissed, frustrated.

"My brother tends to have that effect on people," Daryl half-smiled. "Been gettin' him on people's shit lists his whole life. Hell, the walker thing hadn't happened, he'd probably be dead for pissing off someone he shouldn't have. Ain't that ironic." He shook his head, letting out a harsh little laugh.

"Still," Glenn rubbed the back of his head. "I never should have...I'm sorry."

Daryl considered him for a moment, and Glenn felt flustered. He was so exposed when Daryl looked at him, like he was naked in front of a crowd. He sometimes forgot that Daryl was human, too. He pushed away from the wall and dropped down next to Daryl, letting their shoulders brush.

Daryl didn't say anything, but he didn't move away.

"I know I'm...I'm really selfish," Glenn said haltingly. "You didn't...you had it even worse than me, and--"

"Nah," Daryl said, bumping his shoulder. "No point in playin' that game. Who had it worse or didn't, not somethin' either of us can say."

"I guess," Glenn sighed. "We'll call it a draw."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I saw a prompt on the kink meme that I really want to do, a Firefly-esque version of TWD, but what do you guys think? Would you rather I concentrated on my other fics and not get into a new one?


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been hesitant to write another section, because if you've seen the preview clip for tomorrow's episode...well...it's basically this fic minus the ship. But I'll go a little farther and we'll take it from there. I'm aware that I did not match the dialogue, it was intentional in case I needed to go all AU up in here (well, okay, EVEN MORE AU, cause I'm already pretty there). You never know whose death Kirkman will throw at you.

"If anyone gets pinned down, we have to make sure they have plenty of ammo..." Glenn said, more to himself than anyone else as he handed off boxes of bullets. There was so much to do, they weren't ready. They couldn't handle an all out war.

Glenn nervously chewed on his bottom lip, pacing up and down the room as he tried to think of something else. Anything else. But there wasn't really anything else, was there? Daryl was out there with who knows how many men against him, and being good with a crossbow didn't mean he was bullet proof. The scars on his body were evidence enough of that.

"I'll go work on the cage outside," he said, forcibly quashing the image of Daryl lying dead at the governor's feet. 

"We shouldn't be wastin' time sittin' on our asses," Merle growled, unfolding his arms from across chest. "We can end this. Now."

Glenn's forehead furrowed as everyone in the room glanced up at him, unsure of whether they needed to be ready to stop him from doing something stupid. With Merle, one never really knew.

"We can't just go charging in," Glenn said. "We don't know what the situation is, and we could get everyone killed!" Not with everything so on edge. Not when Daryl could be caught in the crossfire.

"My brother's out there!" Merle said, slamming his fist down on the table, causing the guns piled on it to rattle. "And we may never get the chance to end the governor again. We need to take it!"

Michonne's fingers slid to the hilt of her katana, but Glenn could see the wheels turning in her eyes. In Maggie's eyes. They were considering it. They were actually...

"No," Glenn said firmly, pushing back the quaver that was threatening to claw it's way into his voice. "I'm in charge when Rick's gone, and we're not going to risk them getting hurt because you're impatient."

Merle's face twisted in a scowl. "I don't answer to you." He lunged forward to grab a rifle from the table and ran a finger over the blade protruding from his stump.

"Merle!" Glenn hissed.

"We told Rick and Daryl that we would stay here," Michonne added, taking a step towards Merle.

"I don't take orders from you, either, sweetheart," Merle leered, and then began to make his way to the steps.

Glenn's heart skipped in panic. This couldn't happen. It was wrong. Deviating from the plan was wrong. He'd let Rick down before because he was afraid, and he wasn't about to let it happen again. "You're not going," Glenn said, trying to swallow over the lump in his throat.

It was almost comical how much Merle reminded him of his father. They didn't even look anything alike. Glenn's father was short, wiry, proper. And Merle was...Merle. But they both had this...this look in their eyes. An edge that always threatened pain at the first hint of disobedience, of stepping out of line. And they always found a way to make you pay.

"I don't need permission," Merle dismissed him.

Glenn swallowed, felt his fingers curling into fists. "I can't let you," he breathed, and his voice did shake a little that time.

Merle smiled. Smiled. "You can't stop me."

Glenn was desperate. Daryl's life was at stake. He pulled a gun from the table and stepped in front of Merle. Holding onto it did little to ease the shakiness in his legs. "I'm not going to let you put them in danger." He wasn't going to let his father win.

"That's my brother out there," Merle said, stepping closer so that they were nearly chest to chest. "Get outta' my way." Their eyes met, and Glenn had little doubt how this was going to end. Merle's warm breath hit his face as it quickened.

Glenn inhaled shakily. "N-no."

Everything was still for a moment, and then Merle's hands were on him. Around his neck, cutting off his air supply. And all he could think of was how it was a lot scarier to be locked up in the dark. He heard Maggie shout and the hiss of metal as Michonne drew her sword, Beth's frightened gasp. But then the hands were gone, almost as quickly as they had come.

"Fuck all of you," Merle spat, pushing Glenn away from him. "If anything happens to Daryl, I'm coming for you first, chink," he stabbed a finger into Glenn's chest. "Best you remember that."

Glenn lifted a hand to rub at his neck, coughing a few times as he eyed Merle's retreating back. He just...gave up? Just like that?

"Glenn," Maggie worried, hands on his shoulder and back. "Are you alright?"

"I don't..." Glenn rasped. "I don't know." 


End file.
